Two Days In Texas
I spent the weekend in Texas. The spouse and I were attending a wedding in Dallas-- a beautiful wedding, one of the loveliest I've ever seen. And OMG, the food was fantastic.
Now I'm back in Minnesota, where it's 18 degrees. That sounds harsh if you compare it to Dallas' 60-something temps yesterday, but trust me, for Minneapolis it's positively balmy. The forecast is for a few inches of snow later today.
Strolling around Dallas, seeing the fall leaves still on the trees, the pansies still blooming in the borders, the grass still emerald green, I asked myself: Arent' you glad you live in a place where there's real winter? Where they don't have to spray paint the snow or shroud their shrubbery in burlap? Where Santa doesn't look, well, a little overdressed?
And I answered myself: What are you, nuts? I'd take a 60-degree Christmas any day.
I realize my views are not shared by everyone. My daughter thinks snow is the greatest thing in the world, and I have friends who actually enjoy things like skating on frozen lakes or cross-country skiing their way to work in the morning. Some of my neighbors even jog all through the winter.
When I first came to Minnesota I would look at those joggers and think, They have a lot more character than I do. Why aren't I out there jogging along with them?
Answer: Because I'd rather not be found frozen stiff by the side of the road, thank you very much.
I can't help it. I'm just not a winter person. Even with all its lovely creature comforts- fireplaces, hot toddies, the beautiful silence of new-fallen snow, I just was not cut out for this climate.
At the post-wedding brunch people were trying to tell themselves how not-so-bad winter back in Minnesota was. "At least it snows. It doesn't rain, like in Chicago, or New York. They have sloppy winters. Ours is nice and tidy, provided your snowblower doesn't break down." All the while they're looking out the window at the spring-like Texas weather and thinking, I wonder if there's any way I could move here....
But no. Not gonna happen. So back to the not-for-the-faint-of-heart winter of the Upper Midwest. And tell yourself, I am one tough Minnesotan.
Either that or I'm out of my mind.
Now I'm back in Minnesota, where it's 18 degrees. That sounds harsh if you compare it to Dallas' 60-something temps yesterday, but trust me, for Minneapolis it's positively balmy. The forecast is for a few inches of snow later today.
Strolling around Dallas, seeing the fall leaves still on the trees, the pansies still blooming in the borders, the grass still emerald green, I asked myself: Arent' you glad you live in a place where there's real winter? Where they don't have to spray paint the snow or shroud their shrubbery in burlap? Where Santa doesn't look, well, a little overdressed?
And I answered myself: What are you, nuts? I'd take a 60-degree Christmas any day.
I realize my views are not shared by everyone. My daughter thinks snow is the greatest thing in the world, and I have friends who actually enjoy things like skating on frozen lakes or cross-country skiing their way to work in the morning. Some of my neighbors even jog all through the winter.
When I first came to Minnesota I would look at those joggers and think, They have a lot more character than I do. Why aren't I out there jogging along with them?
Answer: Because I'd rather not be found frozen stiff by the side of the road, thank you very much.
I can't help it. I'm just not a winter person. Even with all its lovely creature comforts- fireplaces, hot toddies, the beautiful silence of new-fallen snow, I just was not cut out for this climate.
At the post-wedding brunch people were trying to tell themselves how not-so-bad winter back in Minnesota was. "At least it snows. It doesn't rain, like in Chicago, or New York. They have sloppy winters. Ours is nice and tidy, provided your snowblower doesn't break down." All the while they're looking out the window at the spring-like Texas weather and thinking, I wonder if there's any way I could move here....
But no. Not gonna happen. So back to the not-for-the-faint-of-heart winter of the Upper Midwest. And tell yourself, I am one tough Minnesotan.
Either that or I'm out of my mind.
Love the blog! I heard about it from my sainted Irish-American mother who, I imagine, pictured you writing from a thatch-roofed cottage near Galway or someplace similarly pictureque. You're right about winter, of course. I'd happily celebrate Christmas on the beach at St. Simons Island, Georgia. Instead I get to watch the dog doots mount up on the crests of bulldozed snow by the driveway and dream of spring cleanup. Eeek!
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